


The Right Side of the Bed

by NDKiwi



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-11
Updated: 2019-04-11
Packaged: 2020-01-11 22:16:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18433208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NDKiwi/pseuds/NDKiwi
Summary: Sherlock pisses John and Greg off so they go drinking.  Shenanigans ensue and Sherlock makes it up to Greg in the morning.





	The Right Side of the Bed

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to the amazing beltainefaerie for being my first Beta!

It had been one of those nights where Greg and John needed to be away from Sherlock. The flat didn't smell any more from his experiment but they didn’t appreciate him burning all the expensive scotch to see which brand created a brighter flame either. They found their way to the Beehive Tavern near Madame Tussauds and caught a rugby game. One pint turned into five and one shot of whisky turned into three. 

“He's such a bloody idiot. Always ruining...things. Flouncing around like a ruddy cat.” Greg slurred out, gesticulating wildly with his half empty sixth pint and sloshing the foamy beer onto his hand and the floor.

“You have no idea. Before we got together he wandered around in barely a pair of pants some days. Oblivious to who was around. Had a woman over and woke to her screaming as she went to the bathroom and he was testing his disguise makeups on his bare thighs…’for a case’ he said. Arse just liked to ruin my chances of getting off.” John mumbled. He took another drink and dribbled a bit down his chin which Greg reached over and wiped off with his thumb, the pad of it lingering on his bottom lip. Greg swallowed and blinked blurry eyes slowly.

Clearing his throat he pulled his hand back. “I think we’ve reached our limit John. Let’s head back and, as long as the flats still standing, let’s see if he will apologize.”

 

John stood steady on his feet and Greg stumbled a bit into his arms. Chuckling softly, John helped him upright and tossed money on the table to cover the tab and then some. He wrapped an arm around his waist and they walked in tandem out into the cool moonlight. Greg leaned his head down and nuzzled behind John’s ear. He knew it drove him wild when he did that and John shuddered as his breath hitched. “Fuck Greg...you really are pissed aren't you?”

“Not any worse than you, doctor.” Greg mimicked Sherlocks sarcasm in his ear. With a sloppy smile he moved his head down to nip John’s earlobe. Purring softly as he did so, knowing it turned them both on.

“If you don't stop, I will take you down that alley and fuck you against a dirty skip.” John warned as his jeans grew more uncomfortable.

“Prove it. You wouldn't dare.” Greg challenged and, in the blink of an eye, John had him spun around, arm behind his back and was moving them quickly out of the sight of the road and town the alley. Greg struggled a bit, not really trying but getting more excited with every step.

“You forget your place when it's just us, Greg. You may be a policeman, but I was in the Army. I killed people.” He growled close to his ear as they reached the shadow of a hulking green metal skip. Shoving Greg against the grimy brick of the Thai take away place, he pressed his body fully against him, rocking his hips against his ares. “Should I take you right here? Knelt on the garbage and pigeon shit strewn asphalt? Pushing into you rough with no prep and only my spit to lube your ares? Is that what you want, Greg?” He growled gruffly in his ear as his free hand reached around between his lover’s body and the wall, gripping him roughly.

Greg trembled slightly, knees wobbly. He leaned back against him to get some stability as he moaned softly. “Y-yes...yes that's what I want. I want you to take me here, John. Please…”. He loved the sound of a rough fuck, especially when he knew John didn't really mean it. But damned if it didn't sound amazing. 

Squeezing him rhythmically. “You are a dirty man aren't you? I knew you were. You know you deserve to not be able to walk for a few days. But it makes it less fun when you actually want it.” He huffed and released him completely with a step back. A smirk spread across his face as Greg’s knees buckled and he slid down to his knees, a soft whimper breaking free from his chest at the loss of touch. John gave him mercy and leaned to help him up. “Alright love, let's go home so I can make good on my threats. And i suppose it wouldn't be on foran officer of the law to get an ASBO.” He looped an arm around Greg again and they walked the few blocks back to the flat. 

“Sherlock? Sher? You home?” John called when they got inside. There was no answer and he frowned but quickly tugged Greg towards their room. It was also empty. “Odd. Must have gone out. But that means we can be even louder.” He shut the door and pushed Greg against it with a thud, mouths finding each other in an eager, albeit drunken, sloppy kiss. Tongues twined and hands fumbled and tore at clothes until they were both down to their pants. They had been moving and the back of John’s legs hit the bed and he went down, flat on his back and found himself quickly with a lapful of Greg. “Fuck.” He breathed as his hands ran the length of his tanned thighs and back up to cup his cock through the soft cotton of his boxer briefs, drawing another moan from the man. 

Reaching down, Greg ran one hand through the sandy patch of hair running along his navel from pants hem to chest and the other found a nipple and rolled it between thumb and forefinger. “We don’t tell you enough, but you really are bloody gorgeous.” His hips rocked slowly against John's hand and he dropped his head back. Thank the queen they didn't have problems with whisky dick. 

John’s tongue peeked out between his dry lips to dampen them in anticipation. He cherished having the buffet that was Greg Lestrade in front of him and loved the way the man worshipped both he and Sherlock’s bodies when given the chance. “I fucking love you.” John whispered and pulled Greg down by the short silver hair at the back of his head and kissed him, immediately thrusting his tongue between gasp-parted lips. Their moans twined together to fill the room with a symphony of pleasure. 

When they broke the kiss, John rolled them over and settled immediately between Greg’s legs. His fingers slid under the waistband and quickly divested him of the offending fabric, mouth watering as his cock came into view. Greg looked down his own body, bottom lip between pearly whites, and reached down to stroke himself slowly. “Like what you see, Captain?”

“You are a menace,” John replied as he slid back to remove his own, too-tight briefs. He tossed both pair in the general direction of the hamper and grabbed the lube before climbing back up on the bed. “How do you want it tonight?”

Greg leaned up on his elbows as he decided. “I want to have you fuck me hard, fast, on my knees.” 

“I think i can work that out. Up and over, love.”

He scrambled to comply, knees slipping on the blankets in his eagerness. He looked back over his shoulder. “Please hurry. I dont think it's going to take long.”

Taking his place behind Greg, John kissed the base of his spine and set to the task of working him open. Every touch inside made Greg moan more and as John finally began to push inside, his arms trembled and gave way, crashing his chest to the bed and his face onto the pillow with a whomp.

John never got over the feeling of being inside Greg or Sherlock. They felt like home. With a guttural groan, he bottomed out, balls hitting Greg’s, bouncing them forward. “Fuck...Greg…” was all he said before beginning to set a brutally fast pace. Their bodies clashed as their minds and hearts raced. Greg was reaching under himself to stroke his cock vigorously, precum slicking his way, his breath ghosting back across his own face because of the pillow’s angle. 

“Harder, John. I’m almost…” he panted, cut off when John shifted his angle and hit his prostate hard. The flash of intense pleasure coursed through him as he fell the rest of the way down on the bed, arse only being held up by John's hands and cock pistoning into him. His own hand was trapped between his cock and the mattress as he came with a silent moan.

Behind Greg, John was quickly losing his rhythm as his own orgasm build low in his belly. He squeezed Gregs tanned hips hard as he gave one last hard thrust and came, sweat dripping from his face, panting heavily. His hips jerked slightly as he worked through the sensations before pulling out and flopping beside Greg. “Christ…”

“Yeah…” was all Greg could muster as a response and he turned his head and blinked sleepily, sated, at John. 

John chuckled softly and rolled to kiss him. “I'll get us cleaned up.” He hummed as he got up. Before he got back with a wet cloth, Greg was already passed out cold. With an adoring smile, John cleaned them and crawled back into bed, snuggling close and following him to slumber.

The alarm was shrill in John’s ear, far too early as he peeled his itchy eyes open with a pained groan. “I’m too old for this shit.” He grumbled and sat up. Still no Sherlock, and Greg was still fast asleep. He ran a hand through his hair and leaned in to kiss his cheek before going to shower and dress for work. His head was pounding, so he took two paracetamols and headed to the clinic.

The sun was high in the sky when Sherlock slipped into the flat and found Greg still in bed, sprawled on his back, sheets tangled around his hips. But the thing Sherlock immediately focussed on was his half hard cock peeking out from under them. Chewing on his lip for a moment, he decided he did feel guilty for running them off the night before. He shed his clothes until he was in his underpants and crawled carefully into the bed, so as to not wake him. He moved to lay vertical to him, eye level to his cock. He smiled to himself because he thought of a lollipop as he moved in and began to gently suckle the tip.

Greg was having the best dream. Someone was giving him the gentlest blowjob he had ever experienced. He groaned and shifted, his hand moving to cup the back of Sherlock's head by reflex and when he touched his soft curls, his eyes flew open. “Sh’lock?” he slurred sleepily.

Sherlock released his cock with a wet slurp and batted his dark eyelashes up at him. “Good morning, Gregory. I'm sorry I upset you both last night.” 

“It’s ok, baby. We overreacted and had to blow off steam. Is there a reason you decided to wake me this way? Not that i'm complaining, mind, but John’s already left.” 

“I wanted to apologize. And I wanted to calculate how long it would take to get you fully hard and if I could before you woke,” Sherlock admitted with a shrug. Greg chuckled and ran his hand along Sherlock’s long neck.

“That's our Sherlock. Please continue. Wouldn't want to mess up your experiment.”

“The parameters have already changed, but I would quite like to finish. I've always been fascinated by your taste.” Sherlock didn't waste another breath before taking Greg into his mouth again. His tongue swirled and head bobbed as he took him deeper.

Greg dropped his head back down and let his eyes slide shut as he focussed on the feeling. He was being so spoiled, to have both his lovers take care of him like this. He groaned loudly, hips moving minutely in time with Sherlock’s mouth. “Oh...Sher...your mouth…” he mumbled, his blunt nails scratching Sherlock’s scalp.

Swallowing around him, Sherlock dragged his teeth along the underside of Greg’s cock causing his hips to jump and slide his cock deep into Sherlock’s throat. Sherlock didn't gag, he had been expecting it, merely took all he was given, breathing sharply through his nose. He could feel Greg's balls begin to pull up and knew it wouldn't be long. He pulled back enough to focus on the tip again and as Greg came, he eagerly swallowed, kitten licking him clean. 

Greg lay still, arms and legs splayed out in a wonky X as his chest heaved. “What did I ever do to deserve you both?”

“I suspect most would say ‘be a good person’ but I feel it's more likely that you don't deserve people based on past acts so much as you earn their favour. Now I'm going to shower and head to the morgue. Make sure John gets milk and Turkish tonight. Anatolia in Hackney has the best.” Sherlock rattled off as he stood and grabbed some fresh clothes.

“What about you? Can I get you off?” Greg leaned up to catch his arm before he left. Sherlock shook his head. 

“Thanks but I'm good. And I'll apologize in much the same way to John later. Go back to sleep and stop worrying about me.” He leaned down and kissed him with only just a touch of heat.

Greg gave a lopsided grin as he flopped down again. “I never thought I’d see the day I went to bed with John and woke up with you.”

“And you will again, I'm sure.” Sherlock padded off, shutting the door behind him.

Looking up at the ceiling, Greg let his eyes shut again and let the sweet memories of the last twelve hours lull him back to sleep with the hope of being woke in a similar way later. Thank the Queen for lazy days.


End file.
